


left field

by flowermouth



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Crushes, Desperation, Explicit Sexual Content, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Overstimulation, Sex Pollen, nomin are two doctors in a questionable situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 09:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowermouth/pseuds/flowermouth
Summary: “Rise and shine, Jaemin,” the voice on the tape says. "Your beloved Jeno came across an unfamiliar plant that pollinated onto his hand, and that pollen has seeped into his skin.”“The pollen raises the body temperature by two degrees an hour,” Tape Person informs him, “I will let you out of the room and give him the antidote once you fuck him and make him come.”





	left field

**Author's Note:**

> due to the nature of this trope, it can come across as a little dubcon, but everything they do is consensual. if that makes u uncomfortable, click away now
> 
> hahaha happy late jaemin day

The moment Jaemin wakes up and realizes he’s not in the hospital break room, his heart seizes with panic. He’s late for work, he’s missing a rotation, his senior doctor and shift partner Jeno is going to kill him—

Except Jeno is with him, across the room in a bed that’s similar to the one he is in.

“What the fuck?” Jaemin says aloud. He makes an attempt to stand, only to find one of his hands cuffed to a set of pipes protruding from the wall.

He tries slipping out of it, hitting it against the pipe to break it, but all he succeeds in doing is waking Jeno from his slumber. Jaemin is expecting Jeno to react in a similar way to himself, making a ruckus and trying to figure out what’s going on, but once his eyes shoot open, Jeno only arches his back and moans in pain.

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls, trying to get his attention. It doesn’t work. Jeno is writhing now, voice cracking as he screams out, “it hurts! It _hurts, _” and the caretaker and pathetically-huge-crush-on-Jeno parts of Jaemin’s brain make him jump up, trying to soothe his pain. 

Still bound by the handcuffs, he doesn’t get far, but his sudden movement is enough to get a small tape to fall out of his pocket. It reads ‘play me’ in stupid, childish block letters, and it’s juvenile enough to make Jaemin’s temper flare up.

After some maneuvering, he reaches into his other pocket, pulling out a tape recorder. He scoffs at the outdated technology, but loads the tape in and presses the triangular play button on the device anyway. He has to hold it up to his ear to hear it properly, Jeno’s pain wracked sobs increasing in volume and frequency.

“_Rise and shine, Jaemin,_” the voice on the tape says. It is gravelly and deep, unfamiliar to Jaemin’s ears and undoubtedly tampered with by a vocoder. He sighs in frustration, but keeps listening.

“_You may be wondering where you are, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is why you’re here,_” the person on the tape pauses to cough painfully, and Jaemin rolls his eyes at how long this is taking.

“_You know that your beloved Jeno,_” the tape person continues, and Jaemin’s eyes flicker over to the man in question, but he cannot hear the contents of the tape because of his distance and his sobs, “ _ has taken up botany in his spare time. He came across an unfamiliar plant that pollinated onto his hand, and that pollen has seeped into his skin _.”

Jaemin takes half a second to flip through his mentally catalogued years of medical school to think of any reason why, if this story the tape person is telling holds truth, Jeno is here in an empty room instead of in a hospital getting treatment. He takes another half second to question why he himself is even there at all.

“_The normal human body temperature is around 37 degrees. When the body reaches 42 degrees, he will die,_” Tape Person says, and Jaemin is a _ doctor. _ He _knows this_. He huffs in annoyance at being told things he already knows.

“_The pollen raises the body temperature by two degrees an hour,_” Tape Person informs him, and this information makes Jaemin stiffen, but not as much as what is said next, “ _ I will let you out of the room and give him the antidote once you fuck him and make him come _.”

This is a horrible time to realize that Jeno has quieted down and is hearing all of this at the same as Jaemin is. He doesn’t dare look up at his senior.

“_You must do it. He cannot do it himself. I am watching you from all angles,_” Tape Person says, and Jaemin’s head starts whipping around to look for cameras in the room, “_if you try to cheat my simple rules, you both will die slow, painful deaths.” _

Jaemin feels like a house has been dropped on top of him. He can’t breathe. “_Why me? _” he asks the open air.

The tape person gives him an answer a few beats later, as if suspecting he would ask such a question, “_I have been watching you, Na Jaemin. I see the lust you have for him. This is your chance to act on it.” _

The tape goes silent and as soon as the film stops rolling, there’s a small _click_. The handcuffs unshackle and Jaemin is free to get up and move around. He rushes to Jeno’s side immediately.

“Jeno!” he exclaims, pointedly ignoring the near nudity of his boss, “Are you hurt?”

“It hurts all over,” Jeno responds, body undulating helplessly. 

Jaemin tears his eyes away from Jeno’s hips, reaching a hand out to touch his forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”

“You heard what he said,” Jeno pants, blinking away the sweat starting to trickle down his brows and into his eyes, “the pollen is raising by body temperature and I have a fever.”

It’s clear as day as Jeno is putting on his doctor voice to sound more confident. “Jeno,” Jaemin asks softly, using a tone he should never use while talking to his senior, but the situation calls for it. Speaking too loudly feels dangerous, like it would disturb the quiet mood of the room. Jaemin gently brushes Jeno’s hair back, “do you really believe what that psychopath was saying?”

Jeno looks indignant at the question. “Well he was right about my botany and the strange plant. I also feel like I’m being seared from the inside out, Jaemin, so if you could fuck me immediately then that would be great.”

Startled, Jaemin’s hand drops away from where it was cupping Jeno’s face. It drags over Jeno’s bare chest, prompting a thick moan to come from his throat. “Pardon me?” Jaemin asks.

“Fuck me,” Jeno moans at him, eyes lidded. “It h-hurts. I feel like I’m dying, Jaeminnie.”

His breath catches at the informal name. “Jeno-nim,” he pleads, trying to put a little bit of distance between them emotionally, “I don’t know if I can do that.”

Jeno shuts down his attempt immediately, “You can. Fuck me right now before I fry from the inside,” he says, adding on a tender, “it’s okay. I want you to do it,” when Jaemin still seems unsure.

“But Jeno...the pollen—”

“_ Jaemin, _ ” Jeno says, and oh _god_ Jaemin recognizes the scolding voice immediately. Jeno holds up a small, digital display thermometer that Jaemin hadn’t noticed had been on Jeno’s bed, “I am 41 degrees right now.”

Jeno whines and drops the device, and Jaemin can only assume another streak of heat tears through him, “You cannot afford to have a moral debate about this. Fuck—make me come before we die.”

Jaemin knows an order when he hears one. He gives a small nod, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Okay,” he says to himself, then repeats it a little louder as if to physically manifest his agreement.

“Thank god,” Jeno moans, raising his hips so Jaemin can take off his only piece of clothing, his boxers. Jaemin swallows nervously as Jeno spreads his legs without thinking, offering himself up for Jaemin to take.

Jeno’s cock is flushed purple like he’s been edging himself for days, and Jaemin wants to quit and run away forever when he sees precome beading where it curves up against his stomach.

He laughs nervously instead, reminding himself that this is for Jeno and not for himself as he wraps a hand around his senior’s cock and starts stroking up and down. “Jesus, was the pollen an aphrodisiac too?”

Jaemin’s voice becomes staticky in Jeno’s ears, only able to focus on the heat of his hand and not the probable truth in those words. His body responds to Jaemin’s touch by chasing after it whenever he distances himself, needing more, more, more all the time.

A stab of heat reminds Jeno that this is not the time to be taking it slow. He groans, bucking up into Jaemin’s hand, “There’s hellfire inside me, Jaemin. H-hurry up, please.”

For the first time since he’s woken up, Jaemin cracks a smile. “Isn’t that a little dramatic?”

He spies a little drawer next to Jeno’s bed and opens it to find a (thankfully closed) bottle of lube. It’s pretty obvious that there’s nothing else in there, but Jaemin dips his head into the drawer in hopes of finding condoms. There are none.

He’s more than a little distracted by the sounds Jeno is making as he jacks himself off, trying to stave off some of the heat while Jaemin wastes time. He grows impatient, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “Will you please just fuck me?!” Jeno bursts out, tears falling out of his eyes as he comes. The orgasm does nothing to lower his body temperature or to soften his cock, and panic is starting to set in. He doesn’t want to die like this, fried up and naked and waiting for someone stupidly handsome to fuck him senseless.

“Okay, okay,” Jaemin relents, surprised by his outburst. His hands shake while he squirts some of the lube onto his fingers, but it takes a little while to get one into Jeno when he’s so tense. 

Jaemin leans down to suck the head of Jeno’s cock to get him to relax. Jeno gasps, muscles unfreezing, and he moans brokenly when Jaemin flicks his tongue over the slit.

He's still gasping when Jaemin presses his finger against his walls a little, and although half delirious, Jeno has the presence of mind to conclude that Jaemin must have done this before, maybe to himself. His hips buck into Jaemin’s mouth at the thought, shoving more of his sensitive cock inside the wet heat.

Jaemin watches as Jeno’s eyes roll back. “Jeno,” he mumbles, adding another finger while tapping hips hip with his free hand, “Stay with me, yeah?”

All Jeno has the presence of mind to say is, “more.” His body screams for it; the moment Jaemin gives him another digit, it only feels good for a few seconds before satisfaction turns to despair. Jeno is spiraling, burning hotter now that his body is given what it wants, more frantic by the second.

Jaemin pulls out his fingers and Jeno can't help the frantic, high pitched wail that escapes him. His hand shoots out to grab Jaemin’s forearm, “Don’t go.”

He sounds pathetic and tear-stricken to his own ears. He cringes visibly and Jaemin laughs at him, taking his clothes off and reaching for the lube again.

“I think you’re ready to be fucked,” is all Jaemin says, voice deep, and there’s a spike of heat in Jeno’s chest that is completely unrelated to this pollen dilemma.

Jaemin lines his cock up with Jeno’s body and pushes in slowly. He doesn’t really need to because he used three fingers to open him up, but fucking his boss like a ragdoll seems inappropriate and disrespectful. 

“Oh,” Jaemin groans once he bottoms out completely, shifting his hips experimentally like he’s testing the give of Jeno’s body. He’s careful with his movements, mindful enough to reach out for Jeno’s hand and lace their fingers together. “Shit, you're tight.”

It’s a slip of tongue, not meant to be heard by anyone but Jaemin’s subconscious, but it gets a ride out of Jeno. “Fuck me,” he babbles because already he's close, finally close to relief after far too long. He doesn’t know what it will take or how this release will be like, but it has to happen or he’s going to flat out burst from the confines of his skin. The pleasure is overwhelming now, washing over the burning sensation in breathtaking waves.

Jaemin nods, the line of his jaw setting in determination as he places Jeno’s thighs around his waist and rolls his hips forwards with shallow thrusts. When Jeno moans, pushing his hips down towards him, he does it again, finally drawing almost all the way out before slamming their hips together.

Jeno can't breathe, can only wrap his arms around Jaemin’s neck and hang onto his junior as he does it again, increasing the rhythm. The force of Jaemin’s movements cause Jeno’s legs to slip from Jaemin's waist, and without missing a beat, he hikes Jeno’s legs up over his shoulders instead. Jeno’s body protests being folded like a cheap lawn chair, but it allows Jaemin to fuck him harder, deeper, pressing into his prostate with every thrust. 

“Jaemin,” is all he can muster, “Jaemin, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jaemin looks purely delicious when he’s ravishing Jeno’s hole, his pupils blown wide and brows furrowed in concentration. The force of his thrusts are punching desperate moans out of Jeno, tears them from somewhere deep inside of him as his body gives in to the artificial desires.

Jeno reaches for his leaking dick, desperately wanting to stroke it, but Jaemin swats his hand away. Jeno gives him a wounded look but Jaemin is quick to counter him with logic, “I have to do it. Psychopath’s rules.”

Jaemin’s shaking hand comes to cover Jeno’s dick, pulling at it and using the beading precome to make the slide a little easier. Jeno is shaking as well, feeling too much and receiving too little all at once as he tilts his hips into a different angle. Jaemin slows his thrusts down and grinds his cockhead directly against Jeno’s prostate and the elder’s body seizes again, ass clenching around Jaemin and the heat pulsates and swells and—

He hears Jaemin moan — quite prettily, his subconscious adds — his hair brushing Jeno’s shoulder as he lowers his head as he comes deep inside of him. Something immediately clicks inside of him; with Jaemin’s hips still bucking erratically into Jeno, Jeno spills over Jaemin’s hand and his own stomach. He loses sight of his surroundings, vision whiting out as the heat explodes through his body one final time before it dissolves into an immense and overwhelming pleasure.

Jeno’s body jerks up, orgasm powerful enough to make him cry. He comes and comes and _comes_ and Jaemin jerks him through it, milking Jeno for all he is worth. 

Jaemin doesn’t even pull out of Jeno, just flips them over so Jeno is on top. The angle puts pressure on his prostate again and Jeno moans, squirming and pushing his hips back to chase the feeling.

Jaemin looks at him in disbelief. “You’re still going?”

Jeno rolls his hips, Jaemin’s come leaking out of him and making a sticky, wet sound as Jeno grinds back and forth. The heat hasn’t quelled, neither of their cocks have softened, so Jaemin just holds tight onto Jeno’s waist as he raises himself onto his knees, fucking himself down onto Jaemin’s cock like he’s never been fucked before.

**Author's Note:**

> can u tell I watched saw again recently


End file.
